Breath in the Sound of Water (5) — The Night of Knowing to the End
Her lips had already passed the rounded tip, descending close to the shallow groove beneath it.
The palm wrapped around the base moved briefly upward, and water streamed over the back of her hand. Inside that palm, the firmness near the root pulsed rapidly.
The Hero’s breath was already ragged.
One hand rested atop her wet silver hair; the other cupped and moved over the Saintess’s breast.
The hand enclosing her breast gathered the wet flesh, squeezed, then released. When his thumb brushed near her nipple, the Saintess’s breath trembled between her lips, and the pressure inside her mouth eased just a little.
She slowed the motion of her hand.
Her lips took him deeper past the rounded tip, wrapping the upper shaft, while the tip of her tongue slowly traced the shallow groove beneath the head. Her palm, still encircling the base, swept upward again.
The Hero’s breath loosened low in his throat, then broke short once more.
“Ria……”
His voice cracked amid the rush of water.
The Saintess lifted her eyes.
The Hero’s lips were parted as if searching for air. Wet strands clung to his forehead, and the heavy lids that had been sinking rose again toward her.
She eased the force of her lips.
Her palm lightened its grip near the base.
Her lips released their pressure just beneath the tip, leaving only the tip of her tongue to glide slowly along the underside.
That tongue tip passed the groove and traveled down the lower face of the shaft. As her head drew back, the underside dragged long across her tongue.
The Hero’s hips followed, the barest fraction.
The hardness pressing into the soft interior of her mouth deepened once.
The Saintess’s shoulders flinched.
On the next breath his hips followed a little faster.
Once.
And again.
The fingers braced against the wall pressed hard into the tile. The hand in her hair tightened among the silver strands.
The firmness filling her mouth grew a fraction more taut.
Startled, she tightened her fingertips.
More strength entered the palm around the base. Her lips lightened their pressure where they had faltered, and she briefly withdrew her tongue.
The Hero’s breath broke roughly.
The hips that had been following short and sharp locked in place.
She eased the pressure inside her mouth and swallowed a breath. The hot outline of him still lingered on the soft inner flesh of her lips; the pulse in her palm beat faster still.
She lowered her head again.
Her lips descended deep past the rounded tip, then drew back only far enough to take air. When she leaned forward once more, the tip slid over her tongue and pressed farther inside.
Her palm swept upward from the base while her tongue tip slowly traced the groove beneath the head.
Each time that tongue tip touched him, the Hero’s breath trembled lower.
His hips followed again, small and involuntary.
This time she withdrew first, only a fraction.
Her lips retreated nearly to the tip, pressure alone lightening. In that interval her palm rose from the base.
When breath returned, she lowered her head once more. Her lips passed the rounded tip and descended close to the shallow groove beneath it.
Deeper than a moment before.
That hardness came closer still inside her mouth.
Each time she drew back, the upper shaft slid along the soft interior of her lips; each time she took him again, the pulse inside her palm grew a little more taut.
The Hero’s breath scattered widely.
“Good…… right now……”
The end of the words vanished beneath the water’s rush.
The Saintess’s fingertips trembled faintly below.
The palm around the base rose again; her tongue tip dragged long across the underside where his breath had broken a moment earlier.
A little back.
Then forward again.
The next motion was shorter.
Her lips retreated nearly to the tip, then immediately deepened once more, while her palm pushed upward from the base.
Her wrist quickened; the firmness near the root pulsed irregularly inside her hand.
Each time she took him forward, the Hero’s hips followed in short surges.
At first a beat late.
Then almost together.
On the next breath his hips moved first, a brief shudder.
The hardness pressing into her mouth came deeper. The pulse beating beneath the tip transmitted roughly all the way to the soft interior of her lips.
Breath caught near the Saintess’s throat.
She withdrew her tongue tip and regulated the depth with lips and palm alone.
The Hero’s hand in her hair stiffened first. The fingers buried among the wet silver strands curled a little deeper.
Each time she drew back briefly for air, those fingertips loosened. Each time she took him deep again, they trembled and locked.
The other hand that had cupped her breast gathered the wet flesh, released it, and let the thumb pass near her nipple. The Saintess’s breath trembled small between her lips.
Before that tremor could settle, the Hero’s hips followed again in a short surge.
The hand on her breast stilled.
The fingertips that had held the wet flesh lost their strength; the thumb could move no farther near her nipple.
The Saintess’s waist flinched faintly.
His palm slipped a little lower beneath the wet curve of her breast.
The Hero’s breath broke roughly.
That hand rose again.
Wet fingertips brushed past her shoulder and near the nape of her neck. At once the fingers slid into the silver hair clinging behind her ear.
Wet fingers hooked deep among the strands; the palm settled heavy beside her head.
One hand held the wet silver hair near the back of her skull; the other cradled the side of her head and the place behind her ear.
Each time she drew back briefly for breath, the fingers loosened. Each time she took him forward again, the fingertips trembled and locked among the silver strands.
The tremor traveled through the wet hair close to her scalp.
The pulse inside her palm was faster, more irregular. The hardness pressing into her mouth met her more tautly than a moment before.
She took a short breath and immediately accepted him deep again.
Her lips retreated only as far as the tip, then wrapped him deep at once. The Hero’s hips shuddered in short time with her motion.
Her fingertips tightened more firmly below.
The pressure inside her mouth lightened, then wrapped him deep once more.
Inside her mouth the hot weight still pressed forward. Even where she had withdrawn her tongue tip, that heat remained heavy.
The Hero’s breath collapsed low.
“Ria……”
The name left him like a breath.
She answered only with her eyes.
Through the steam his eyes were unsteady. His lips opened, then closed.
His hips tried to still.
In the instant the hardness inside her mouth began to pull back, the fingertips holding her hair trembled.
“Ria…… I—I’m going to come.”
The end of the words nearly drowned in breath.
That hardness tried to withdraw.
Even then the pulse inside her palm beat fast and irregular. The tremor leaping beneath the rounded tip pushed taut against the soft interior of her lips.
His hips could follow no farther; only his abdomen locked hard.
Instead of answering she put more strength into the hand around the base.
She lightened the pressure inside her mouth and drew back only far enough for breath. Then she immediately descended deep again.
The palm around the base moved briefly upward; her lips, pressure eased, retreated nearly to the tip.
The moment she took air, she accepted him deep once more.
Her lips parted wider; her palm pushed upward from the base. The advancing hardness pressed deep across her tongue.
Schlup, schlup.
Her head moved short and rapid.
Her lips retreated nearly to the tip, then descended deep at once; her tongue tip dragged long across the groove beneath the head. Her palm pushed upward from the base.
Almost no distance remained for withdrawal; only the depth of acceptance increased.
Her wrist quickened further.
Chap, chap.
The firmness near the root pulsed irregularly inside her palm.
His hips could follow no farther; only his abdomen stayed locked hard. Both hands holding her wet silver hair trembled.
The shorter and faster she moved, the more often the fingertips among the silver strands shook.
Schlup, schlup.
Her lips retreated only as far as the tip. Each time, the upper shaft passed the soft interior of her lips; each time she descended again, the rounded tip pressed deep across her tongue.
The distance of withdrawal shortened; the depth of acceptance grew little by little.
The Hero’s hips followed in a short surge he could no longer restrain.
Her lips wrapped the hot, hard weight deep. The pulse inside her palm beat fast and irregular.
Each time she drew back, the outline of him slid along the soft interior of her lips and remained; each time she took him again, that weight pressed deeper.
The Hero’s breath collapsed low.
“Ria……”
The name could not finish.
His eyelids sank heavy, then sought her again.
His broken breath reached close.
The Saintess opened her lips wider.
The rounded tip pressed deep across her tongue; inside the palm around the base the pulse leapt hard.
In the next instant the tip of him jumped strongly inside her mouth.
Something hot and viscous poured into her.
The Saintess’s eyes wavered wide.
The thick fluid spread heavy across her tongue; the hot taste pushed near her throat. Each time the tip trembled hard again inside her lips, more of the viscous fluid flowed deeper.
Breath caught.
She slowly lessened the strength of the palm around the base. The rapid pulse inside her hand gradually quieted.
The hot, sticky fluid remaining inside her lips pooled heavy on her tongue.
A little that had escaped the edge of her lips spread sticky near her chin.
Both hands in her hair stayed locked, unable to move.
Her throat caught once, small.
She slowly eased the strength in her fingertips.
She parted her lips carefully, only enough for breath.
As the rounded tip slid free past the soft interior of her lips, the hot, sticky fluid remained heavy on the tip of her tongue.
Her breath trembled.
Water ran from the corners of her mouth and down her chin.
Inside her lips the dense taste still lingered. On her tongue the hot, viscous sensation remained heavy; a little clung to the edge of her lips as well.
As the pulse inside her palm gradually settled, she slowly released the hand around the base. Between her fingers, wetness and slickness remained together.
“Ria……”
The Hero’s voice came low.
She managed to answer.
“Yes……”
Her voice was so small it nearly vanished beneath the water.
His hand slowly stroked down through the wet silver hair.
As if untangling the strands, very slowly.
Her trembling shoulders lowered a little.
Only then did breath return.
Belatedly she tried to cover her lips with the back of her hand.
But her hand was wet too, and a slick texture still clung to her fingertips.
The Hero’s breath trembled low once more.
He soon reached toward the shelf.
He took the rinse cup and filled it with water.
Quietly he held the cup out near her hand.
She slowly accepted it.
Her gaze wavered beneath wet lashes.
Her lips were still red; heat remained on her wet cheeks.
Yet the cup paused a moment before her mouth.
The water continued to pour.
A mouthful would wash the taste away at once. But the sticky sensation remaining inside her lips and the hot taste on her tongue were still vivid.
Every reaction of a moment ago—the Hero’s collapsing breath, the locking of his hands, the following of his hips—still lived inside the dense taste on her lips and the weight on her tongue.
“I was…… a little surprised.”
He looked at the fingertips holding the cup, then lifted his gaze again to her wet lips.
Only the sound of water remained between them.
The Saintess looked down into the water in the cup.
Droplets beaded on the rim and ran over her fingers.
“But……”
She swallowed a breath.
She looked into the cup, then slowly closed her still-wet lips.
“I wanted…… to keep just a little more of it.”
The water’s sound lengthened for a moment.
The Hero’s breath trembled very low.
He could not answer at once, only looking back and forth between her wet lips and the fingertips holding the cup.
She slowly brought the cup to her mouth.
She took a little water and slowly rinsed the inside of her mouth.
The sound of water drew close again.
When she set the cup down, the Hero took up a towel.
Without a word he folded it and carefully wiped the edge of her lips and beneath her chin.
She tightened her grip on the cup.
Each time the towel passed near her lips, her face grew redder.
And even after he lowered the towel, he stayed where he was.
Her eyes rose carefully.
“Ria.”
“Yes……”
“I love you.”
Her hand, still holding the cup, stopped.
A single droplet ran down the back of her hand and fell.
“I……”
Her voice trembled.
“I love you too.”
His hand touched her cheek.
It was hot.
Hotter than the shower water.
She leaned her face into that hand, just a little.
For a while neither spoke.
Only afterward did the Hero turn the showerhead a little.
Warm streams poured again over the Saintess’s shoulders.
He guided her slowly beneath the water.
He swept the wet silver hair back and rinsed the foam remaining on her nape and shoulders. While he let the water run down her arms to her wrists, she held his arm and found her breath.
Her knees trembled the barest amount.
So she caught his arm lightly.
He looked down at that hand.
And without a word he offered his arm so she could hold it more easily.
She held his arm and steadied her breathing.
“Hero.”
“Mm.”
“Next time……”
She trailed off, face flushing again.
He lowered his head.
“Next time?”
She spoke very small beneath the water’s sound.
“I’ll learn even better.”
He lost his words for a moment.
Then he lightly rested his wet forehead against hers.
“That counts as half a foul.”
She blinked.
“A foul?”
“Yeah. I had just barely calmed down.”
Her face reddened in an instant.
In answer she put the slightest more strength into the hand holding his arm.
Water streamed over both their shoulders.
A little later he shut off the shower.
When the water that had filled the bathroom fell silent, their breathing drew closer still.
He took a towel and wrapped it around her wet shoulders.
“Cold?”
She shook her head.
When the bathroom door opened, the outer air was a little cool, and her wet toes curled small on the tile.
Seeing that motion, he wordlessly held out his hand.
She looked at it.
The first day she had come to this house, the sound of water before this door and the cold tile had all been strange.
Now she read his breath inside that same sound of water, and the path out the door was one they took together.
She secured the towel with one hand and took his hand with the other.
“Let’s go.”
It was a small voice.
He looked at her a moment.
Then answered very low.
“Yeah.”
The two of them left the bathroom.
Through the crack of the bedroom door, a small light that had not yet been turned off still leaked out.